


What a Prick

by minecrafters



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mild Gore, Taxidermy, maybe this is my gay sci-fi 80's movie enthusiast dimension. what about it, stan being a big secret mushy feely person, stanford and fiddleford are mentioned to be working in sci-fi movie field, taxidermy enthusiast and goth rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 16:18:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19009360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minecrafters/pseuds/minecrafters
Summary: Rick loves bones, guts, and gore. Most people see mutilating animals as a gateway to being a serial killer. Rick sees it as an art form, and a classic horror-movie production technique, in comparison to Ford's fancy shmancy animatronics. Stan just likes to help however he can.





	What a Prick

**Author's Note:**

> i may or may not add this to a work series, or even add onto this au idea alone. but what i do know is that i have some VERY choice rick/ford rivalry moments down in my head

"I 'unno Rick. I'm not as good as this stuff like my brother is..." Stan sutured the stuffed animal corpse together from the stomach up. Cheap cotton balls spilled from the...lizard? His hands were trembling, and the stitch was sloppy from inexperience. He must've pricked himself eight times now. The reptile alien's scaly skin was like expensive leather, to the touch and durability. To Stan, the damned thing didn't have enough give for such a tiny, regular, non-alien surgical needle. "This little guy ain't lookin' too good."

"P-Puh lease." Rick was elbow deep in a real, real life dinosaur. Or as close to an Earth dinosaur it could get. "Ford takes little robotic toys from babies and p-puts them in-in front of a camera, calls it a movie. W-what we're doing? Is art, Lee. Y-you'll get better with time." He ripped prying feathers straight from the technically ancient corpse, a sounding rip of skin making them both cringe. "P-plus if y-you fuck up, w-we could just edit it in post." Throwing the orange plucked feathers over his shoulder, Rick proceeded to gut the beast further. Each squelch and pop of organs, bone, and blood every other minute made Stan queasy.

Stan turned his head, avoiding the gore, and did his best not to puke in his mouth. No matter how much Rick loves this hobby, Stan doesn't think he'll ever start to get fond of the smell of rubbing alcohol and rotting animal corpse. Every breath he took, the taste of copper and hospital was astringent on his tongue. He pricked himself, again, and decided to stop suturing. He laughed to himself at the thought of Rick hunched over one of those big bulky computers Ford has in the apartment's living room. "Editing? Ford'll be mad, he told me he's only got a giga-thingy worth of space in the thingy-dingy. I think that's little. I kinda stopped listening after you and Fids came in wasted."

Rick barked a laugh out at the mention of Fiddleford. "That crazy s-sonuvabitch, he w-wanted to build a giant death robot for his shit movie, but your little safety-dweeb of a brother w-wouldn't let him." He turned his head over his shoulder, trying, and failing to look at Stanley. "and d-do you honestly think I'll use that hunk of j-junk Ford calls a compuuuter? CGI i-isn't going to go a-anywhere for a-another 20 y-years. I know that a-as a fact. I'll j-just bum one off Fiddlenerd and im-improve the m-motherboard in it m-myself." Rick clutched an organ in his palm and turned around completely. Stan got a good look at him. He had long, blue surgical gloves up to his elbows drenched in dark red blood. Above his low-cut tank top was a white apron smeared with his own bloody hand prints. Its pockets were full of sanitized scissors, scalpels, and extra bone-cutters. The organ in his hand was smooth, and purple. Stan really hoped it was the stuffy storage locker air getting to him, and that it wasn't pulsating. He also noticed the dried streak of blood through Rick's bangs that got there when he would absentmindedly run his hands through his hair. Stan's face flushed a bit at the sight, and hoped that finding not only a guy attractive, but a bloody maniac of a man didn't make him royally fucked up. "Check i-it out, w-we're e-eating chopped liver tonight!" Rick joked. 

"Ew." Stan, even despite it being gross, laughed through his grimace.

"Y-you're right, liver tastes fucking gross." Rick went to put it on ice. The cooler was also very bloody and very organ filled. Next to it, he grabbed the rubbing alcohol, and drank from it like it was water.

"...You wanna go put it under Sixer's pillow?" The corner of Stan's mouth quirked up.

Rick slammed the bottle of rubbing alcohol down. His voice was hoarse when he said, "He d-doesn't e-even sleep, though?"

Stanley pitched his prank idea even further, "Exactly! Then, it'll rot, and he won't know where the smell is coming from!" He tapped his finger on his temple. "Master planner."

"Lee...y-you're a fucking genius. W-what w-would I do w-without you?" Rick rambled with a smile on his face. He'd do anything to annoy Ford. "Finish up that triliongabasaurus, a-and we're going to do that im-immediately once we look like we didn't j-just flee a crime-scene!" Rick rolled the soiled gloves off with a resounding snap and tossed them into a bin nearby.

Stan smiled too and went back to finishing up the sewing job of the trili-what's-it. He knows why Rick doesn't make him go to some pawn shop and pick up some cheap, pre-taxidermized animals, stick one head on the other and call it a day. It's because Rick likes doing this type of stuff, and Earth is too boring for him. Even if people think the aliens are too alien to be real. A little part of him though likes to think that their alien roadkill gathering adventures is their thing and only their thing. Rick could go out with Stan, or Fiddleford, and get any other highway roadkill. But the addition of letting Stanley see alien planets with him, and nobody else, makes him feel special. Dumb lackey or not, Stan likes Rick's chaotic company. Even if it comes with a lot of bones and weird looks from the storage place's owner when there's some blood leftover on the soles of his chucks. Maybe he's enjoying Rick's company a little bit too much. Although, that thought gets interrupted as Stan pricks his finger for the tenth time on that damned needle.


End file.
